Protocol
by Kalims
Summary: And cold wars only leave cold soldiers...   It's me! XxRxX!


**A.N: FINALLY! I've changed my lame PenName ^^ I just figured "Why not?" and it's sure a lot easier to write ;D**

**'Bout the story: I really enjoyed writing AND reading it. Hope you'd feel the same (about the reading part, not the writing, you thieves!), especially since it's -I don't know- kinda realistic?**

**Hope you'd enjoy :)**

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><p><strong>Protocol<strong>

**Cornelia's POV:**

"My arm! They've cut off my arm!"

I immediately jerk my head toward the sound. I see Eric and Andrew accompanying and trying to control a frantic fellow colleague, who is hysterically struggling and kicking–his amputated elbow still oozing blood. I grimace at this view even though I've seen many just like it–if not worse–before.

Eric and Andrew are leading him to our private hospital, holding him as he screamed intensely. The other coworkers of the Courtyard in the place are staring at the guy sympathetically and a few offer help. Eric nods at them smiling and let someone take his place. He sees me, and without reluctant steps, he comes to me.

"Where were you?" I ask as he stands right next to me. He grabs a glass of beer from the table and takes a sip before he answers me.

"The north side–next to Trance Hotel? Someone reported a sign there and as soon as we arrived, the damned sorcerers took us off guard." He says crossly as he drinks from the glass again. I look at him with a raised eyebrow.

"How many were you?" I ask curiously, surprised that a couple members of the Bloodhood managed to beat our well-armed, well-prepared team.

"Stephen, Andrew and I." Eric frowns.

"What?" I scowl in disbelieve and disapproval. "Just the three of you? Are you nuts, why didn't you with the rest of the troop?"

"I thought they'd be only one or two of them. I never reckoned that the Bloodhood would dare to show up at such a public place anyway." He defends himself, but he does seem apologetic and guilty glancing at the direction where they've took that guy Stephen.

"What happened?" I ask gently, knowing that even though Eric shouldn't have been reckless, I wouldn't have thought that the magicians make a big appearance in an open place either.

"It happened so fast. We arrived there about seven minutes after the report. The place was crowded and there were too many lights everywhere. I was about to leave because I thought no way the wizards would have had stayed in a place for more than five minutes, but then Stephen's compass started to vibrate. Stephen caught the guy it was pointing at but as soon as the man found out he was uncovered, all three of us were thrown in the air. Before I could use the weapon, more scorers appeared and wiped them away from us, right before attacking Stephan and, well, cutting his arm off during the fight. Like I told you, it happened to fast, so the next thing I knew I was on the floor next to Andrew hearing Stephan's screams."

"Mmm," I lower my gaze. "Terrible. Any witnesses?"

Eric laughs. "Everybody nowadays is too busy to pay attention to anything but their own business. No, before anybody could stare Andrew and I carried Stephen and put him in the van, rushing to arrive here."

"He'll be alright." I reassuringly beam at Eric, knowing that he must be feeling responsible for the accident.

"Yeah . . ." He sighs, look at his watch, and then back at me. "I have to go. I have to meet Hay Lin before eight."

I grin at him. "You two are going okay, aren't you?"

"Like you say: you're always right." He returns the grin. "Setting me up with her was the best thing you've ever done. She's a fine girl." He looks at his watch one more time before he swallows the rest of the drink in one sip and start to hurriedly walk away. "I have to go now. Bye, Cornelia."

"Bye." I say after him before smiling. Hay Lin is one of my best friends, and Eric is a guy I know so well. Matching them together was no problem. Both of them were the sweetest pies on Earth.

Too bad, the dear boyfriend is feeling a little guilty and sad because he has to keep secrets from his girl. He can't tell her where he spends most of his time or why sometimes he's too busy to go out with her. He can't even tell her about the mysterious phone calls he sometimes gets, interrupting the date and forcing him to leave. Yeah, she's told me about it, and she seemed upset. But neither Eric nor I could tell her the truth. She wouldn't understand.

See, magic is real. There are gross, vulgar, insane magical beings–and I mean _real _magicians. People who are born with magic abilities–with a hatred of everything peaceful and sunny matched only by their craving for malice.

Unfortunately, they exist in our world and live among us. On the outside, they're the typical human being. But on the inside, they're sick, wicked people. They use their magic for corrupted and depraved causes. Their only aim is to force and ensure their existence and persistence in the world while, of course, enslaving all other humans without magical abilities. To them, we are inferior beings–sinners for we are barred from the _gift _of magic.

They've had their first massacres–and their first appearance–in World War I. And since then, the killing continued and continues. They're just _creatures _who somehow managed to contact another world, or maybe have had a deal with some supernatural power and thus got their abilities–in any way, they use magic in the name of ravening.

Shorter words; they're mankind's greatest enemies. They hate us, and love to kill. They want to conquer the world and spread witchcraft. They have some seriously messed up anthropological, religious views and contexts–and they're trying to spread it. They've already killed a lot of innocents, and to prevent them from growing massively and uncontrollably, the Courtyard was created. A group of good soldiers, scientists, and fighters. Their role is to capture the scorers and, because there is no discovered way of stripping the magic out of them, kill them.

I'm proud to say that I'm a very active member of the Courtyard. We've successfully managed to lower the amount of supernatural activities in the world–we were able to minimize the bloodbath. Unfortunately, we now face a resistance. The Bloodhood, which includes the strong magicians in the world. It's like a little society. The adults train the youngsters and teach them how to fight, how to kill. They teach the art of butchery–of dark magic. Bloodhood is simply a bunch of organized murders.

What happened to Stephen is an example of their coldness, of their inhumanity. There are a few people who know about magic and about us, and luckily, most of them are on our side. If they caught an act of magic or saw a magician, they'd report to us. The Bloodhood mostly hides, but when they come out they kill at least a dozen of humans. The war between us has been active for decades, and it will continue until the last sorcerer on Earth takes his last fucking breath.

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><p><strong>Will's POV:<strong>

Oh, thank God! They're okay. They're okay.

"Don't worry, Will." Matt says. He and Caleb share a slightly sheepish smile as they look at me. "We're still alive and kicking."

"Good, 'cause I'm going to kill you!" I snap. "What were you thinking of going to a place like Trance Hotel and in an hour like this?"

"We thought we wouldn't get caught." Caleb explains as he looks down. "I mean, we were wearing hoods. We didn't even use a little magic. We've veiled our energy. I don't know how they managed to detect it."

"That damned compass." I sigh. "But seriously guys, you know it's freaking dangerous, why did you go? The last thing we want is another goad for them to harass us even more." I say bitterly. Those awful murders.

"Yeah, but there's no way three members of the Courtyard were hanging out there with their equipments and van. No, they weren't there from the beginning; someone called them. But I swear to you Will, we suppressed our magical oomph. We ordered it to hide, and it did." Caleb looks very sincere. I have no doubt that he's saying the truth; I was just pissed that the Courtyard has that many cooperators and associates.

I sigh miserably. "I know, I know. But still, you shouldn't have gone there. There are some citizens who support the Courtyard, and they're becoming very observant of anything suspicious. They're keeping their eyes wide open." I pause for a second, and then say. "Have you seen their faces? Would you recognize them?"

Both of them shook their heads. "We were so worried, so everything happened quickly and we couldn't see their faces clearly. Plus, they also were wearing hoods."

"Oh," I say. "Okay, then. I'm glad you're all alright. But remember that we always should be super careful."

"I know. We're sorry."

I beam up at them. "Hey, I'm really happy that you're okay. All of you are, right?"

"Yeah. Nigel, Irma, and Alchemy are okay, too."

I raise a doubtful eyebrow. "And Elyon?" I ask as my heart starts to thump.

"Relax," Matt says with a smile, "she wasn't with us. She told is she'd stay 'cause she and Hay Lin are planning Cornelia's birthday." He discloses, making me smile.

"Oh, yeah." Cornelia was a really cool girl. When we surface the ground, we never talk to anyone; we don't want to take the slightest risk. But two years ago, we've met Cornelia and her friend Taranee and a few others. They're really good and fast became close friends to us. Actually, it is trough Cornelia that we've met Elyon. She claims that she discovered about her abilities when she was six, but didn't tell anyone–not even her best friend, Cornelia. I caught her once floating, and then before she could freak and explode with excuses and explanations, I told her about the Bloodhood, about the danger that would lurk her just because she's magical, and about the protection that the Bloodhood offers.

The point is, people like Taranee, Cornelia and the others have encouraged us to mix with the society. Unfortunately, the damned organization, the Courtyard, is making sure that nobody magical even thinks about living a normal life. Its members are the most vile, narrow minded humans in the whole world. They're terrorists, practicing the real definition of terrorism.

We're different, and to them, difference means wrong. They've developed those silly, preposterous ideas that we're devil worshipers and in league with heinous demons, or such forces and spirits.

They don't realize they're mixing up two, very different, very irrelevant terms: magic and witchcraft.

There's no such thing as witchcraft in the first place. Invocation, demons and haunting, paranormal spirits do not exist. Magic does, but magic is poles apart.

Magic is evoked supernatural tendencies in one's soul. Also, it is developed through sentiments and devotion. Real magic is created through the heart, not the genetics. A true magician knows all about sacrifice, responsibility, wisdom. Unlike what the Courtyard believes, it is not just a predisposition or a dysfunction. And it is not built and grown through practice only.

The sad fact is, prejudiced people dominate the world. Everything unnatural is incorrect. Everything not common is banned. And from those discriminatory came our greatest enemies –the killers, the cruel, the unfair . . . the Courtyard, of course.

They outnumber us and think they have the right to forbid us from trying to fit in. Hell, we've been able to fit in decades ago! We were fine living by the side of normal beings, but when one of us have made a public appearance and have unintentionally showed off some of his powers, they went crazy.

And then began the slaughter. Then began the discrimination and danger. Because of them, our image has been ruined and our reputation misshapen. They'll trash us to anyone who'd listen. They'll lie to anyone who'd believe.

It's war between us. A real war. And I will not rest until I become completely sure that there won't be anybody left in the world who'd murder more of us anymore.

* * *

><p><strong>Normal POV:<strong>

It was a very beautiful night. There was a full moon, there were stars, there was a gentle, chilly breeze . . . Even if a bit late, it was the perfect weather for a walk in the park.

A promenade was the last thing on Will's mind at the moment. She wasn't walking in the park with her boyfriend and her best friends for fun; they had a mission. A dangerous, angry mission. Rumors said important associates of the Courtyard were going to be here, at this time, to obtain new weapons from their fonder.

Well, according to Will and the others' plan, the hell they will!

They were going to stop those bloody murderers and capture them. They'll try to juice out of them the slightest information about the Courtyard so they could finally destroy it. And if the prisoners weren't so cooperative, Will thought that she wouldn't mind the utter pleasure of killing them.

This was an once-in-a-lifetime chance. They would never get another opportunity of taking major members of the enemies' line by surprise. For once, the Bloodhood had the advantage. If people thought sorcerers were danger, they were about to see how dangerous they real were.

"Hey," she said as she turned to her friends and fellow magicians. "I don't want any backing down, any hesitation or mercy."

"We won't kill them right away, right?" Hay Lin asked softly. Yes, she was a very sweet, kind-hearted, sensitive girl. No, she wasn't feeling the slightest sympathy or care for the Courtyard. Her question was merely out of curiosity and she wanted to know if Will knew they need to take prisoners for investigation.

"No, don't kill anyone." The redheaded leader said firmly, though she was still whispering in order not to be detected in this quiet night–they were close to the enemy. "Fight them, make them drop unconscious, but no killing. Those bastards are our key for the fatal destruction of the Courtyard. I don't want our chance to be wasted." She explained as the others nodded silently.

Again, they made their way forward, heading toward the end of the park where their greatest rivals were. It took them only a little while before they heard murmurs and some noise. There was a bush in front of them. Will nodded to the others as she stepped slowly forward and looked through the shrub. If it were possible, her smile would've had reached the top of her head.

_I see only six. _She said telepathically to her team, and since one of them didn't have the gift of telepathic, Nigel whispered to his ear.

_Any weapons?_

_Yes, _Will answered. _Two of them are completely armed. They're holding machine guns. And a girl has a gun on her waist. That's what I see._

_And your plan is? _Matt asked her as his heart pounded during the waiting of her answer. He wanted to strike. Bad.

The brown eyed leader backed away from the bush. "Hay Lin," she offered her a hand, "I want you to start the act." The Chinese decedent swallowed heavily. She hesitated, but eventually took her friend's hand.

Will smiled briefly before her expression sifted into complete seriousness and determination. In a very low voice yet strong voice, she told the instructions. "Hay Lin and I are going to dash forward. As soon as we pass the bush, I want you"–she looked at the petit girl–"to immediately strike with air. You have only a second to pinpoint the armed men. They're standing next to each other so you have the chance to knock both of them with one hit. With electricity, I'll zip the gun away from the girl. That should be the easy part. I don't want you to come right after us, I want you to come when they recover from the surprise and are ready for the real fight. Don't underestimate them; their weapons are strong and deadly."

From their faces, Will could identify fear, worry, fortitude, and pride. She felt all the same. "Long live Bloodhood." She said clearly and expressively.

"Long live." The rest of them echoed as new waves of bravery were added. The redhead put her hood on her face and the others mimicked her silently.

Will smiled. "Ready?" She asked Hay Lin. The younger girl simply nodded. "Now . . . go!" She and Hay Lin rushed forward and darted into the bush. Once they went out of it, Hay Lin raised her hand before she and her friend stood flabbergasted.

"You forgot about the compass." Said a man with a taunting tone. In a second, the two other men–like all of them, masked with black glasses and black tuques–fired at once.

Before Will and Hay Lin could react, Elyon ran in front of them, creating a defense barrier. The armed men kept firing as a woman with blonde hair obvious from under the tuque snarled.

"There's three then." She said before she took a gun from her belt. "Keep firing, the barrier won't stand for long."

But just then, a tree fell down right next to the van. Distracted, the Courtyards looked at it and Irma dashed in the middle of the scene and with her hand raised, she pushed one man backwards and made him fall. Caleb, Nigel, Alchemy, Luba and five other Bloodhoods came to battle.

"It isn't just a coincidence; they've known we'd be here." A man yelled as he tried to aim at a magician and shoot him down. The battle got nastier. Finally, the man firing at the magic protection wall were too busy defending themselves so they stopped shooting and Will, Hay Lin and Elyon were free to fight.

Matt lunged at one of the enemies and he knocked him down. The guy fell, hit the floor with his back, and the glasses went flying. Suddenly, most of the Bloodhoods stopped dead and stared at the grimacing raven haired young man.

"Oh my God . . ." Almost everyone stopped now. After making this horrified whisper, Hay Lin took off her hood. "E-Er . . . Eric?"

Startled, Eric stared at his girlfriend with wide eyes and an open jaw. "Hay Lin?"

"Hay Lin?" The blonde took her glasses off.

"Cornelia?" Elyon gasped. She, too, took her hood off.

"Cornelia." Will stared in disbelieve at the blonde until abruptly, one of the Courtyards took a couple of steps away.

"Oh my God! Will, is that you?" The redhead knew this voice.

"Taranee." She croaked through her suddenly dry throat.

"Taranee!" Nigel took his hood off. Right then, everybody, from both the Bloodhood and the Courtyard, began to unmask themselves, discovering one terrible truth after another.

"How . . . Why . . ." Peter stood in shock looking at close friends of his whom he was fighting against mere moments ago.

"You're the Courtyard?" Will asked shocked at the realization that the people whom the met and made her want to muddle up more in the community were the enemies who'd been mercilessly slaughtered her kind for years.

"You're the Bloodhood?" Cornelia couldn't believe what was happening. No, it couldn't be. Will was like her sister. As well as Hay Lin, Irma, Matt and . . . Elyon was her best friend. Caleb was her boyfriend.

"You fought Stephen and cut his arm off . . ." Martin's voice drifted. Caleb's face crumbled.

"You were there?" He gasped. "They were you?"

"I can't believe this . . ." Will lowered her head as everyone went silent. These people cared for each other. They _loved _each other. Will could've risked her life for Taranee. Cornelia could've killed for Elyon. Hay Lin could've died proving her loyalty to Eric . . . Yes, all of them could've gone to hell and back to protect each other. They were friends and closer. What difference does being contradictory make now? The Bloodhood knew these members of the Courtyard and had cared for the _person _in them. The same thing went for the Courtyard.

Each party knew the other wasn't bad. So what now?

"Andrew," Eric whispered, "fire!" And so he did, and the Bloodhood reacted and started fighting again, with the only agreement they had ever made together being that their friendship was a mistake and an error of judgment.

So, as the night went on, each party fought for the name of its kind. Always, always, similarity before difference.


End file.
